Thief in the Garden
by readbycandlelight
Summary: Her heart is a secret garden and the walls are very high...but a new mutant at the X-mansion, a thief with blazing red eyes and boundless reserves of kinetic energy, is bound and determined to climb that high wall and steal her heart. Rogue/Gambit
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **_Thief in the Garden_

**Author****: **Tiri Lotus

**Summary****: Her heart is a secret garden and the walls are very high...but a new mutant at the X-mansion, a thief with blazing red eyes and boundless reserves of kinetic energy, is bound and determined to climb that high wall and steal her heart.** Rogue/Gambit

**Rating:**Overall, this fic will be rated NC-17

**Disclaimer****: **I do not own X-Men or any of its characters. No copyright or infringement is intended.

**Author's Note**: Let's pretend that Gambit never made an appearance in X-Men Origins: Wolverine, mmmkay? 'Cause my lil' shipper heart doesn't like the thought of Rogue and Gambit living in different time periods. Oh and I'm also going to intertwine bits of the comics into this movie-based fic because I find I like elements of both. This fic takes place after X-Men 3: The Last Stand. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy!

_**Thief in the Garden**_

**By Tiri Lotus**

**Part One**

"Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high."_  
– _William Goldman,___The Princess Bride_

The cure didn't last. It would turn out that nothing could stamp out the mutant gene. Those who had taken the cure found out the bad news in varying stages – depending on how strong their mutant gene was.

Rogue's mutant gene was _very _strong. Within a week of taking the cure, she found her powers had come back.

Bobby Drake, her boyfriend and fellow X-Man, had been in a coma for three weeks because of it... Because of _her_.

They had been kissing. So far that's all they had been doing. She had been hesitant on her part to go any further because there was an inner part of her that struggled. She just didn't trust herself to fully let go.

She was right to not trust herself.

Rogue had spent every day and every night at Bobby's bedside. She'd whispered _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so so sorry _beyond the point of her throat being hoarse. By the time he had woken up there were no more tears left for her to shed because there was nothing left in her.

Upon his waking, she had looked into his ice blue eyes and told him he was better off without her.

That had been four months ago. Since then Rogue had been devoting her time to training as hard as she could in the X-mansion gym and her Danger Room sessions – and also avoiding everyone in the mansion. It wasn't that hard to do. She retrained herself to sleep during the day and wake up at night. Storm and Wolverine never seemed to be able to catch up with her because of their rigorous teaching schedules. And Bobby...Bobby was hurt by her. Badly. She could see the betrayal in his eyes every brief chance their eyes met during a training session. He didn't seek her out.

Everyone else was under the assumption that she had turned into a bitch. _How could she just dump him the second after he got out of a coma? _She could hear the older teen mutants whispering. Even Shadowcat wasn't speaking to her. She had sided with Bobby. And although Rogue was avoiding everyone – it hadn't gone beyond her notice that Kitty and Bobby were getting...close.

It was on nights like tonight, when Rogue was all alone, that she could show the pain she carried inside of her. She was doing laps in the indoor Olympic sized swimming pool. The water covered her tears as she stroked through it as fast and hard as she could... Though it didn't hide the gulping sobs that she couldn't restrain every once in a while. She did this for hours, until she was limp and exhausted. When she was towel-dried, she slowly made her way to leave, walking stiffly because of sore muscles. On the way out of the concrete pool area, she felt something wet and softened from water cling to her foot. She pulled whatever it was off and found it to be a Queen of Hearts playing card. Thinking nothing of it, she took the card with her – meaning to throw it away in the nearest trashcan, but she forgot in her exhausted state and took it all the way to her room. She dropped it and her wet things in a bundle on the floor and tumbled into her bed.

In the weeks following she found more lone playing cards left forgotten near the places that she inhabited during her late night excursions. They were always Queen of Hearts. Though Rogue was avoiding everyone, there were some things that did not escape her notice. She knew that more and more young mutants were coming to the X-mansion. With the cure being recalled, Worthington Labs were in shambles and riots were breaking out across the globe. Humans with anti-mutant beliefs were enraged, and, Worthington Labs' failure to suppress the Mutant gene sparked that rage. All mutants were in immediate danger. There were definite sides now. If you were a mutant you were either sided with the X-men...or sided with Magneto's Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. Hence why the mansion was receiving new students.

But the scary thing was, even though more mutants were coming to the mansion, there were still rooms upon rooms that had yet to be occupied. Rogue had a chilling hunch that, because of the humans' anti-mutant sentiment, more and more mutants were siding with Magneto.

The thought of that particular mutant was what fueled Rogue to train harder during her workouts. When she felt like she was just beyond her limits to do another lap or another crunch or another set of weightlifting – she would think of him and suddenly she would have more strength to go on. Him and his shape-shifting lover, Mystique, were two mutants she could definitely say that she hated. All she had to do was look into the mirror and see that blindingly white streak in her hair and she could recall the night that Magneto and Mystique tried to sacrifice her and her powers to make everyone on earth a mutant.

However, now that Rogue was training as hard as she could, when she looked into the mirror, besides seeing that streak of white hair, she also saw a warrior. The scared little girl named Marie was gone. Rogue's body was sleek and hard in all the right places now. Her core was toned and flat. The only softness on her was the flare of her feminine hips and the swells of her breasts. Even her face had changed. Her cheekbones and jawline were more pronounced. Her green eyes and soft pink lips stood out more against her slenderized features. In a word, she was beautiful. But she was beautiful in a way that a forest fire or a riptide or a snowy white wolf is beautiful. The word 'beautiful' implies the word 'deadly.'

But no one got to appreciate the change in Rogue, because she was closed off. She didn't let anyone near her if she could help it, and she was even less prone to make conversation. That is why on one dark, late night, when she had gone to one of the kitchens that was hardly ever visited, she was most thoroughly annoyed to make the acquaintance of one of the new mutants inhabiting the X-mansion.

Rogue was on her tiptoes trying to put a box of crackers back in place when she felt a presence pluck the box from behind her. She whipped around and faced a very tall man. He had dark reddish-brown hair and a wicked smirk on his face as he crunched away on a cracker. But that's not the first thing she took in.

She was most preoccupied with his glowing red eyes.

"Thanks, chère," he said arrogantly as he gave a nod towards the box of crackers.

Her eyes narrowed on him. She realized that he must be one of the new mutants. "Who're you?" she said in an unfriendly voice as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He took his time to answer her. First he made a show of trailing those red eyes of his over her. She was in skinny jeans and a black v-neck top. A scarf was at her throat and white full-length opera gloves covered her hands and arms.

"Your completely willin' slave," he answered in a thick accent that made her think of Louisiana swamps and Mardi Gras.

Her upper lip curled in disgust at his comment. She felt a lick of fear and embarrassment flood her at his apparent come-on. Because of her powers, she did not like to be the object of sexual attention. It made her feel...wrong, somehow. Like, if they only knew what would happen if she were to touch them, they'd know she wasn't worth the effort. Suddenly the need to get away was overwhelming her. She pushed off against the counter and side-stepped around him. "Ugh. Save that for someone who actually _wants _yer attention."

She was almost out the door when she was held back by him taking her gloved hand into his ungloved one. She gaped at him incredulously. "Oh, you want it alright, chère …. You jus' don' know it yet," he said softly, as he placed a kiss on the thin material of her glove. "Remy LaBeau, at your service."

"Keep yer paws to yerself, you overgrown caveman!" she hissed as she pulled her hand away from his grasp.

She quickly retreated from the room to the sound of his laughter. She was so angry that it wasn't until she had made it to her room that she noticed the discomfort inside one of her gloved hands. It was her right one... The one that this Remy LaBeau had touched. She quickly dug inside of it towards the source of her discomfort. A thin, stiff piece of smooth paper touched her fingertips...

She pulled out a Queen of Hearts playing card.

She stared at it, thunderstruck, as it all clicked into place... He'd been the one leaving these cards lying around – and it wasn't unintentional.

Her stomach did a flip as she came to the eery realization that he must have been watching her. She let the card fall onto the little pile growing on her dresser. That night she didn't leave her room again. She just sat in the dark wondering about this red-eyed magician.

How had he gotten that card in her glove?


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thief in the Garden**_

**By Tiri Lotus**

**Part Two**

"I don't mind spending everyday  
Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile  
And she will be loved  
She will be loved."

_Maroon 5 - She Will Be Loved_

This time, when he came to her, she was prepared for it.

"I like to eat alone," she said stonily as she stabbed at her baby greens salad. She was seated at a table in yet _another _kitchen that was even less likely to be visited. However, likely or not, he had found her and she was glaring at him.

He continued to saunter through the doorway, unfazed by her warning. "Oh good. I like to eat alone, too. We can do it together."

He slid out a chair across from her and straddled it. She could feel his bewitching red eyes upon her like an actual caress.

She rolled her eyes and let them drop to her food, avoiding his stare. "You ain't eatin' anythin'."

"That's 'cos, _ma petite chérie…_it ain't food I'm hungerin' for."

In shock, she lifted her eyes to meet his. That perpetual smirk was ever-present on his face.

She dropped her fork and stood abruptly from her seat. Her chair screeched heavily as it slid. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

She made to leave the room. She wanted desperately to get out of the presence of this bastard so that the strange hot-cold chills going through her body would _go away. _His next words halted her retreat.

"I just want to get to know you… Marie."

Within the blink of an eye, she had turned towards him again with narrowed, accusing eyes. "I never told you my name."

"You di'nt have to," he said innocently. _Too _innocently. She wasn't buying it for a minute. With those lean, muscular thighs straddled and spread wide across the back of the chair, he oozed a carefree nonchalance that ticked her off. He errantly took out a worn deck of cards from the depths of his dark trench coat and started shuffling with all the dexterity of a master poker player from Vegas. His eyes never left hers as his hands worked their magic. "Have a sit," he said, gesturing to her vacant seat.

Rigidly, she took it — but she wasn't happy about it. "What d'ya mean, '_I di'nt have to tell you my name'? _How else you s'pose to find that out_?"_

"What I meant was… I have my ways." His response was maddeningly secretive.

"You've been followin' me."

"Observin' you," he corrected.

Rogue squirmed in her seat. The look in his eyes was pure sin. She could hardly stand to meet his gaze. To mask her unease, she glared spitefully at him. "It ain't right! You're gonna stop this nonsense now. Ya hear?"

He gave her a sly smile. One that let Rogue know he wasn't going to heed her warning to back off. "Why ever would I want to do that, chére?"

"Because I said so. That's why."

He gave a low chuckle, and continued to play with his cards. She cast her gaze to what he was doing so she didn't have to put up with that intense stare of his. He must have followed her eyes because now that his hands had her attention, the cards were charged with a golden-red, shimmering glow. Hmmm. Must be something to do with his powers.

"Well then it's a good thang you don' got the authority over me in this big, shiny mansion…'cos I don' plan on stoppin' what I'm doin'…" he answered. Despite herself, she met his gaze again as he continued speaking. "But I do plan on bein' up late every night — just the same as you, darlin'."

She wanted to wipe the smirk right off of his face. "Well, this mansion is big enough for the both of us. So stay outta my way!"

This time when she got up, she left.

Gambit casually continued shuffling. When Rogue was out of earshot he said softly, "Not gonna happen, chére."

* * *

Rogue tried to concentrate on her exercise. She was using a machine that focused on arm extensions. Her arms were rising up over her head and then going back down. She was in her regulation X-Man uniform because she'd just gotten out of a late night Danger Room session. Working out in the tight black leather wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but she felt it was a necessary evil. The practice in it was good because when she was out in the field with her fellow X-Men — it would feel like a second skin on her.

But her uniform wasn't even the most uncomfortable part of this particular workout session… It was Remy LaBeau. He sat directly across from her, doing free weights. That part wasn't necessarily bothering her. What bothered her was that she could feel his eyes on her. Staring. Like she was naked or something. It made her want to throw a burlap sack over her body.

"Stop it," she said breathlessly, as she ended her arm extension exercise. She briefly eyed a machine that worked out the inner thighs — but thought better of it. Yeah, that would not be a good idea with him around. Instead, she turned her back on him and got on a treadmill. It only took a minute before the treadmill beside her also came to life. She groaned inwardly, but refused to acknowledge him outwardly.

"Stop what, chére?"

'Nope. Not gonna answer you,' she thought. It had been a couple of weeks since that first night she had met Remy LaBeau. And every single night since then he had found her, wherever she had been, and joined her. She had learned in the brief time of knowing him that to acknowledge him — whether it be in a positive or negative way — was to encourage him.

Since she wasn't answering, he seemed to decide to take it upon himself to guess. "Remy stop…bein' so sexy?" he asked with a chuckle. "You know I can' stop that, Rogue. 'specially now that they've got me in this new uniform." He was quiet for a moment. But only a moment. Then he continued with, "Remy stop…lookin' at you? Is that it, chére? You don' like my eyes trailin' the length of your body?" His voice had taken on a low timber. It sounded…forbidden. Like the low pitch should only be heard in a darkened bedroom filled with candles and naked flesh. Rogue felt a jolt in her lower belly and picked up her pace on the treadmill. "…That can' be it either," he continued. "You like the way that I look at you."

She almost broke her silence with that one, but remembered at the last moment that he thrived on riling her up. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She schooled her features to remain blank and stared ahead of her at the gymnasium wall.

He decided to up the ante and continued speaking to her in that low, forbidden voice. But this time in French…

Unfortunately she understood and spoke French, so she couldn't get lost in translation.

"_Secretly," _he began in the love language,_ "you like the hunger that enters my eyes when I stare at the curves and dips of your body. You think I don't notice your body's reactions to me? I know what your body wants probably even better than you yourself know. The pressing of your inner thighs, rubbing together trying to get some relief from the tension inside you doesn't escape my notice, __chére. Neither does the puckering of your sweet, hard little nipples. Look — even now they are little diamond points against your black leather, begging to be sucked… You don't know how many times I've imagined slipping the zipper down the front of your uniform and sucking on your aching breasts…"_ _  
__  
_It was only when he trailed off that Rogue noticed she had slowed her pace and was breathing heavily. She didn't need to look over to the red-eyed mutant to know that he had a smug smile on his face. Mechanically, as if she were a robot, she pressed the stop button on the treadmill and stepped off.

"But like I said, that can' be it. You like the way I look at you," he said, speaking his Cajun-English again. It was like a flip of a switch, how fast he could go from tormenting her with naughty French words to tormenting her with silver-tongued English. He was back to his previous game. "So what is it? Remy stop…breathin'?"

She snapped. "Yes! That's it! You- you sick, _depraved _rat-bastard! Stop breathin'! Get away from me!"

She tried to leave the room before she broke down with a wretched sob, but she hadn't quiet made it out before it escaped her. She ran, ran, ran. She was well beyond the front gardens of the X-mansion and was near the front gate when she slipped in the rain-slicked grass. The rain was falling in torrents from the inky black cloud covered sky; it slid down the black leather she wore and covered up the trail of her tears. She collapsed where she fell, and the sobs racked her frame.

"…Marie?"

She jolted at the sound of his voice. "Stop," she shrieked. "Leave me alone!"

His hand came to rest on her leather-clad shoulder. When she didn't resist his touch, he knelt behind her and enveloped her in his embrace. He rested his chin against the top of her rain-soaked hair and gently rocked her. They stayed like this for a long time. She couldn't stop crying.

"Why do you say such things to me when you know I can't touch?" she said brokenly, when she was finally able to speak.

He was quiet for a long time, just gently rocking her. It got to a point where she didn't think he was even going to answer her.

"B'cos I see your fire and your drive to do better and…I can' help wantin' you," he answered very honestly. "And…b'cos things can' be as bad as they seem, _chére. _They just _can't_." _  
__  
_A new set of tears sprang to her eyes. She wished she had his optimism… But her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high. So instead, she allowed herself the small comfort of being held by his warmth as she grew numb in the rain.

_To Be Continued…_

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for ending this chapter on a sad note, but things have to break down before they can be built back up again. I hope you're still enjoying it. XOXO


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